Traveling the World One Day at a Time

Burning Man

August 24, 2010

Yes, I realize it's been well over a month since my last post. That last post, the one about bulls in the main square of Meynes, said nothing about my sudden disappearance from blogging and from social media for that matter and I've been asked, "Where did you go? What's going on?"

First, I want to say thank you for even asking. The fact that enough people read this blog to care means a lot to me.

This last month, I've been mostly offline traveling and spending time with family. We arrived back in Salta Friday, began a new education project yesterday. I haven't talked much about this project because so many details are up in the air, but soon I'll have something more definitive to say. For now, I can tell you that it was fantastic to be back in the classroom. The students we have are amazing, and I'm really excited for the future of our program.

I'll be away two weeks, the longest I've ever been away from Lila, and I am feeling apprehensive about it.

In the meantime, I'm still writing and editing at Matador Life where Nick Rowlands and Candice Walsh have been keeping things running at times I'm offline. And I'm working with Simon from Neverending Voyage to rework this blog. I began The Future Is Red over three years ago and much has changed since then. I'd like what I post here to better reflect our new home in Salta and the new work we'll be doing here.

But it's also made me realize, I can't do everything. I'm going to have to make choices. And while we now seem to have a sense of stability we haven't had since we left New York, I feel like now is a time of amazing change.

October 15, 2009

One of our camp mates, Gail, came to burn this year with a specific goal in mind. To rest, recharge and let go before returning home to San Francisco to begin chemotherapy.

Wednesday night of the week, we joined her for a survivor walk between the Man and the Temple. On reaching the Temple, she cut one of her braids and left it there to flame up and disappear along with the temple on the final night of the week.

The next morning, Gail shaved Noah's head.

He'd been talking about doing it for a while. Well, full disclosure, I'd been trying to talk him into it for a while, but I suppose he needed a real reason, something that gave him the courage to let go and go bald. And if you ever have the great luck to meet Gail, you'll understand why. She is loving, strong and, well, just wonderful.

Friday, she and Stephanie, a longtime friend of Gail's and also an amazing woman, left Burning Man early so they could spend some time together. Their presence was sorely missed. It felt somewhat like we'd lost our grounding. Not that you need to be grounded for Burning Man, in fact it may well be better to unhinge, but the nature of the experience changed with their departure.

When they arrived back in San Francisco, Gail and Stephanie shaved their heads together. Stephanie posted photos of her newly-shorn, newly dyed pink head on Facebook along with a beautiful, poignant and succinct answer to why she chose this way to show her love and solidarity with Gail.

Stephanie Says:

Thanks so much for your love and support! it's been an
interesting change. Can't say I don't miss my hair but this is sorta
fun for now.

Gail lives in Berkeley, I used to nanny her
daughter back in 98-99 and 2004. We had a chat one night about how
losing her hair was going to be hard. I got off the phone and knew that
this was a
way to support her if she chose to shave her hair off before going to
chemo.

When she announced that she wanted to do it, I offered to do it
with her and do it as a ritual.... On Sunday, we did the hair ritual as the temple was
burning. We braided our hair together in two pieces, blonde and black
and did the chop together.

Her daughter who is now 15 cut the other
half of our hair off. The other thing I'm doing is helping to manage
her support calendar for meals and rides. It's really all I can do
from a distance.

It just happens that my writing of this post coincides with Breast Cancer Awareness Month. The following are resources for information on prevention, treatment and support.

Sharsheret - A national non-for-profit organization of cancer survivors dedicated to addressing the unique challenges facing young Jewish women living with breast cancer. Founded by Rochelle Shoretz, an old college friend of mine.

September 29, 2009

Business cards, old receipts, things Lila hands to me, things I want to keep but don't know what to do with them, they all eventually end up at the bottom or in the numerous pockets of my bag. Some things are useful. Others, junk. And some are mementos, things I don't really need, but can't bring myself to throw away. Yet.

Before every major trip, though, I clean and organize. I like to think of it as a testament to the need to move on.

This time, my bag -- which triples as handbag, computer bag and carry on -- has been through a lot. It began with us in Salta beginning of July. We made our way through Cordoba, Neuquen and skiing San Martin de los Andes. Then Atlanta, Burning Man, where my bag arrived to find itself smack in the middle of a dust storm, and finally two overnight drives from Atlanta to NYC and back.

What did I find?

Zipties

These little things are endlessly useful for Burning Man. From attaching tarp to poles for a shade structure, to securing your tent, connecting a cup handle to utility belt, bondage classes and excellent for tying, securing or binding just about anything. Very handy.

Now that I'm no longer at Burning Man, I still use them in dozens of situations. Bracelets for Lila, collars for her stuffed kitty -- which honestly, is so tight, it seems to border on bondage as well. Quick suitcase fixes, holding computer cables and so much more.

Half Eaten String Cheese, Still In Wrapper

I'm not proud. I guess it ended up here somewhere between Harrisburg and Roanoke, but this isn't the first time I've found food remains festering here.

Balloons

I carry these just about everywhere, always. Not so much for Burning Man, because I figured a burst balloon will likely end up in pieces all over the playa, but as a toy. Blow one up and Lila is occupied for hours. They're also great when playing with a group of kids, because their floaty, bouncy ways ensure that all children playing have a chance at the ball.

Bike Cover In Ziplock

Another prop from Burning Man. I got mine at Black Rock Bicycles, where we rented our bikes. The owner's wife makes them. Mine is purple on top with a many colored tie-dyed edge. It's still filthy from dust storms, and there's an inch of playa dust at the bottom of the bag which oddly makes me wax nostalgic. How quickly a girl forgets how corrosive such dust can be.

Two Pairs Of Underwear.

One Lila's. One mine. Both clean. Because you never know when you'll need them.

Yes, those are my Top Five. Three of which, I'll continue to keep in my bag. Can you guess which ones?

The others, I'm sure, will somehow find their way back, along with incense, a bike lock, jeweled heart and butterfly stickers, candles, ski lift ticket, a few rocks, seeds, leaves from various trees and a pack of two inch nails.

I go through this every time we pack. It's the constant winnowing of what is important enough
to carry along, what must be thrown out and what must be left behind. This process is enormous, overwhelming the first time you do it. Over time, though, it gets easier, and eventually, you find you just won't feel right unless you've lightened your load. After all, do you really want to carry a sleeping bag cover and hammer along for the ride?

This time, I'll admit, has been much harder than in the past. I don't want to leave Atlanta, although I do want to return to our adventure in Salta. Here, we have family, contacts, connections. There, we have a new project, a summer of camping in some of the most beautiful terrain on the planet, and plenty I have yet to uncover.

September 25, 2009

This is not a gathering of drunk, dazed hippies as so many seem to think. Instead, I met teachers, artists, nurses, computer technicians and writers. I met a woman who came to recharge before starting chemotherapy. I did yoga in the cool morning hours with a yogi who juggles fire. I ran into a Greek photographer I'd emailed through Couchsurfing, but never had a chance to meet until I walked into our camp the first day and recognized his face and name.

The people inspired me.

But it's not just individuals, it's the community. Here is a place where taking a cake to your neighbors to say hello is not just something you do on move in day or on holidays, it's something you do many times, daily. Your share everything, and everything is shared with you. You give your food, your water and you give of your daily life in a way that rarely happens in the rest of the world.

I found myself often engaged in conversations with strangers on subjects I usually consider to be private, generally meant only for a few close friends and family. Here, in this stage, I opened up. I expressed things I didn't even know about myself until I found myself telling someone I just met and would never see again.

Thus, the walls that exist between people in general society dissipate. Here in this sudden city, you experience tribal living. You exist in science fiction. You expand into another dimension, if only for a week. It's a world in which wearing jeans and a t-shirt makes you strange but walking around naked is normal.

It is incredibly liberating to be free of the boundaries of world outside of Burning Man, otherwise known as the default world. This frees you, not because you necessarily want to become a nudist, but because it turns the world upside down, demanding that you question why we make the choices we make in the default world.

It is simply put, fan-bloody-tastic. I spent more of my time riding a bike around the playa seeing the art than anything else. This is the largest, most accessible art museum on the planet. It's open day and night, and the art is interactive. Some you can climb. Others are designed to react to your presence, often responding by spewing out flames. One evening, I saw a woman dressed all in white, hanging from a flaming metal bird sculpture. I sat in a chair that amplified my heartbeat. And after some time, everything in this temporary existence becomes art, even yourself.

It makes you see the world in a way you've never seen it before. It makes you want to step beyond the role of spectator and become truly engaged and involved. You begin to believe that anything is possible.

I know many leave the playa to find themselves feeling lonely and disassociated. I can understand why. The separation from such intensity can be painful.

Me? When I dream I go back to Burning Man. I find myself surrounded by swirling dust. I can wear what I want, be who I want. And when I wake from my dreams -- day or night -- I cannot help but bring at least a bit of the dust back into the default world.

The lines between Burning Man world and Real Life blur, and that, I think, is exactly how it should be.

September 12, 2009

My first really big project developed itself into a discourse on the nature of home. Winter, senior year of college, my best friend Jen and I drove cross country to explore Native American culture in the United States, mostly focused on the Lakota Sioux, also known as Oglala, in South Dakota. I came away from that project clearly seeing how so many Native Americans consider this land their home, yet they have been displaced from it. I am the opposite. I have not been forcibly moved, and yet my connection to the United States is far more tenuous.

So upon first entering Black Rock City to hear the warm greeting of "Welcome Home!" I was discomfited. It felt strange, wrong. "This is not home," I told them silently.

No place is really home to me.

Brooklyn? It once was home, but I don't feel that way anymore. South Africa? I don't even remember it. Atlanta? My parents sold the house I grew up in almost a decade ago, and while I feel entirely comfortable in their house, it doesn't feel like home to me. Panama? No. South of France? Gorgeous, but not home.

In a sense, Noah, Lila and I attempt to create our home in Salta, but I suspect no where will ever have the weight and permanence of what I think home should have. Perhaps that's why travel comes so easily to me. I don't feel sad when I leave a place because for me leaving is as inevitable an event as arriving.

But staying, relaxing, creating a place, one place that is no longer an apartment, la casa or even a tent, but is regardless of brick and mortar, independent of form and furniture, a place I feel safe calling home, that has eluded me thus far.

I suspect I'm not interested in having a real home.

I like flitting around, a couple months here, a few days there. So on the eve of our return to Salta, I find myself apprehensive. We plan to go back, rent a house for a couple years (yes, years!), work, live life. And so you know, we decided to stay in Salta -- aside from it being a lovely place to live -- when Lila told us she didn't want to move around anymore. "Why do we keep going places and not staying," she asked. So it was time to be still for a while.

I'm finding the prospect of creating one place as home, becoming an expat instead of a traveler, as difficult and overwhelming as the process of selling everything and packing up to go. It's Newton's Law of Motion applied to travel. A body at rest prefers to remain at rest, and a body in motion, well, you know how it goes.

Yesterday, I asked Lila where she calls home.

She points straight down to the ground. "Right here," she told me. Right in Granny and Grandpa's house. She is also excited to go back to Salta, to return to school and see her friends and teachers.

I find great satisfaction in the thought that somehow, we have created a life for Lila in which she has a space to call her own. Maybe more than one even.

September 10, 2009

This Burning Man thing is huge. Tens of thousands of people. Endless things to do and see. Amazing art. And millions of minuscule grains of dust whirling in the desert.

I am exhausted.

Lack of sleep will do that to a body. So will biking around the desert for hours a day. I barely ate more than beef jerky the entire time we were there, and I seemed to have dropped five or so pounds. The skin around my eyes blasted raw from two days of dust storms, during one of which we broke camp, meaning hours and hours in the blazing sun working with dust in our eyes. I can't see two feet in front of me, but the sun still sneaks through the clouds to burn?

The good news, though, the bruises on my leg are healing well. One in particular I got when I ran my bike into a truck. I didn't see it until last minute because of the white out. Oh, and the massive cold sore on my lip, the one that got worse and worse as days passed because dry wind and sand generally aren't a solid prescription for healing.

Did I mention I'm exhausted?

Did I also mention that Burning Man was amazing, overwhelming and even with all the exhaustion I wouldn't trade the experience for anything. In fact, I plan to buy tickets for Burning Man 2010 as soon as they go on sale. Of course, whether or not I go depends on lots of other things.I can always sell the tickets later, but I want the option of going should I so choose.

While my body is tired, my mind, creativity and spirituality are awake and rejuvenated.

I spent much of my time riding through the desert looking at art. Burning Man is the most fantastic art museum on the planet It remains open day and night, and it is interactive. You can drive under and around the art. Some you can climb. Others you can write on. Some breathe fire.

The rest of my time I spent with friends.I knew only a handful of people when I arrived. When I left, I had made connections and friendships that formed with the intensity of those that form in camp when you're a kid. They're fast and pure. You feel you know each other well because you're in close quarters, you see each other daily and you're dependent on each other to survive.

We played a lot. Danced, rode our bikes, teased each other.I didn't check my phone once. It wouldn't have worked anyway. No signal. My
blackberry slept quietly, covered and protected from dust zipped in a
pocket of my bag that had been placed in another plastic bag and
hidden at the back of a truck. I didn't miss the outside world -- with
the exception of Lila -- I didn't worry.

Did you hear that? I didn't worry about a single thing the entire week.

I went to yoga classes, energy healing massages. Noah and I joined a couples stretching workshop, and I tried out a pole dancing class. There was plenty else as well. And yes, all the rumors of sex and drugs are true. Naked people, men wearing tutus and wigs, women dressed as leprechauns, dazed people wandering aimlessly and dangerously in the desert completely incoherent from acid.

August 18, 2009

Thank you to everyone who took our survey, commented, e-mailed and facebooked (is that really a verb now?) your thoughts, ideas and opinions on the images I posted last week. Your input made our choice much more simple and clear.

At final count, the church image was favorite at 33 percent, followed by the shadows in the desert preferred by 27 percent of you. The thought was the church is perfect for an art-y beautiful image as a postcard, but the desert shadows fit better for Burning Man.

We basically agreed with all the above and will do exactly as suggested. We won't do them all at once but will work toward three separate cards. One smaller one for Burning Man and then a split run of postcard size cards, one for What Lila Sees, the other to represent The Future Is Red as a whole.

So far, we've designed the Burning man one. It's playing card size, double-sided and printed on a glossy thick paper stock. Tomorrow, we see proof.

Since so many of you had a hand the creation of this card, we though perhaps you'd like a first look at it too. A bit blurry in it's online incarnation, but here it is, front and back:

May 19, 2009

I recently read in one of my preferred blogs, Social Media Rock Star, how Burning Man is now the place to be. It's the cutting edge. Maybe even the bleeding edge.

Cutting and bleeding edges. Two terms that take me back about ten years to a marketing meeting we had at MTV. The purpose of the meeting was to discuss future trends of the planet, hopefully to be detected and incorporated by MTV programming just before the rest of the world caught on.

The trends talked about in that meeting were spot on. We talked about India. People would start turning to the east, traveling there. Yoga would become mainstream. We discussed body art, not just elaborate tattoos but flesh art, where you literally cut or burn a design in your skin. Sounds implausible to many, I suppose, but when you look at magazines like Body Modification E-zine or notice that Yahoo! has an entire section on body modification, suddenly what once seemed over the top and off the edge comes a little closer to home.

But we never talked about Burning Man, even though it already had a rather long history by then. At that time, the few people who heard about Burning Man called it a place for hippies to dance naked in the dessert.

This article I read, How To Stay Near the Cutting Edge, tells us Larry and Sergy of Google fame played at Burning Man right before Google became huge. Matador Network published an article on the Thirteen Coolest Art Installations at Burning Man. And there seems to be more and more of a buzz on social media sites -- Twitter, Friendfeed, Posterous and more. Everyone wants to drop everything this summer to spend a week dancing naked in the desert.

Does this mean Burning Man has gone mainstream? Well, that all depends if you believe Social Media is now mainstream. I'm not quite sure it is. Yes, it's in the news and all over TV. Ellen and Oprah twitter, you know.

But I think for many, these things are still in the realm of trend. Until social media is used exclusively in place of other more traditional forms of media, until using the phone or turning on the television is something we quietly accept that really only Grandpa still does, because he never quite cottoned to the idea of sending a video through his phone to be simultaneously posted on a profile at each of the 50+ social media sites, until then Social Media is the new kid on the block. And the new kid on the block still has a lot to prove.

So now, why do I want to go to Burning Man? I'm curious. No, I am beyond curious. What is this thing in the desert that seems to inspire such grand creativity in so many people? What is this festival of naked hippies that so many cite as a life changing experience?

They say you simply can't imagine what it's like until you experience it for yourself. I picture standing on the playa, a flat plane of dessert in Nevada, as the top of my head bursts open and all colors, stars and energy will flow forth. And then, then I will understand.